30.

[pastdedication]

[voice post]

[Lin's plucking out what may be a familiar folk tune to some on an acoustic guitar. He sings quietly, but steadily.]

As we march down to Fennario

Comments

[venomouselle]

Yesterday was Sunday. So yes.

[pastdedication]

I seemed to have slept through most of it.

And how is Miss Driver today?

[venomouselle]

Some of us have places to go.

Well enough. It is Monday.

[pastdedication]

Places to go, things to see, ways to be dead.

If the rest of the week finds you better, would you like to go to the firing range with me?

[beast_unbound]

Another week, but every day here may as well be that, because there's no rhyme or reason to this place.

Good playing. Where's the song from? Did you write it yourself?

[pastdedication]

It's a folk song from Earth history, the region of Ireland I believe. I certainly didn't write it.

Every day is very much like the last. This could be said of any life, but resonates most clearly here. I have gotten used to it.

[beast_unbound]

Much like the last? I suppose I haven't been here long enough to get used to all the curses and such.

[pastdedication]

So you are new here.

The curses steal a day from you, frequently humiliate you or worse. But then they are over, and life continues.

[letslip]

I'm proud.

[pastdedication]

You are?

[letslip]

You're making progress, right?

[pastdedication]

Maybe I am. I wish I knew what I was attempting to progress toward.

On any account, thank you. No one has ever said that to me.

Private || Unhackable

[notapreacher]

You're welcome. Any time.

That offer still stands too.

Any time.

Private || Unhackable

[pastdedication]

I may yet take you up on it.

Private || Unhackable

[notapreacher]

Good.

Take care, Lin.